


This is My Body, Given For You

by musicalmonster99



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/F, Sacrilege, Vaginal Fingering, improper use of a confessional, slight exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 17:41:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15152330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicalmonster99/pseuds/musicalmonster99
Summary: Concetta has always been a religious woman... Phryne not so much.But she’s learning.





	This is My Body, Given For You

**Author's Note:**

> Enormous thanks to my friend Bea—couldn’t have done it without you. This marks the end of a total writing curse; it’s my first finished work in over a year. Enjoy!

They had been walking for awhile, and Phryne only notices she is lost in thought when Concetta slows the pace. Focusing her attention to the woman on her arm, Phryne notices where they’ve stopped. The bronze arch over the door frame of a grandiose building reads St. Agnes Catholic Church. Cool night air stirs around her legs, moving her skirts gently, and Phryne pauses only a moment before asking,

“Do you attend here?” Concetta meets Phryne’s eyes and shakes her head, quickly turning her attention back to the sloping architecture of the church. While Concetta examines the building, Phryne examines Concetta. The smoothness of her olive skin, soft yet prevalent cheekbones, the way she brushes her fingertips against her neck as she thinks deeply about something.

“Can we go inside?” Concetta poses the question hesitantly, as if even she is unsure she wants to. Phryne forces her gaze to move from Concetta’s lips up to her eyes.

“Sure,” she says, her voice low. The two women begin the journey up the walkway, the heels of their shoes echoing in the silence of the courtyard. When they reach the entrance, Phryne pulls the heavy doors open and to her surprise, they open soundlessly.

“So...what are we doing here?” The light is low in the sanctuary, only a few candelabras lit. Concetta separates her arm from Phryne’s and replies,

“Lighting a candle,” she pauses as they reach the altar, reaching for a matchbox. “For Fabrizzi.”

“Your husband?” Phryne’s voice pitches up as she turns away, placing her hand on her hip. Maybe she should say a prayer for the mood of the evening.

“ _Sí_ ,” she strikes a match and transfers the flame to one of the lone white candles on the table. Phryne watches intently as the other woman sinks to her knees and bows her head, bringing her clasped hands to her lips. As Concetta speaks silently in prayer, Phryne almost feels as if the moment is too intimate to look upon.

 _Almost_. She studies how the other woman’s hair sits so gently in waves pulled back into a knot at the base of her skull—different from how she typically wears it, more natural looking. Concetta’s dark blue skirts pool around her knees, her shawl loosely slung over her arms. Momentarily, Phryne lets her gaze wander. She sees the typical church-like things scattered about. Hymn books on pews, a grand organ, and…

A confessional.

It is a secret to absolutely nobody, least of all the local priests and nuns, that Phryne has and will never repent for her sins. But the idea of sharing a confessional, well…

“Amen,” Concetta closes her prayers and Phryne offers her hand to assist her in standing.

“Did you know,” begins Phryne mischievously, “I’ve never been in a confessional. Never confessed to a thing in my life.” Concetta’s eyebrows tweak upwards and she leans into Phryne’s slight tugging on her arm.

“Would you like to start tonight?” She counters, now moving towards the curtained entrance of the sacred box. They slip into the side opposite the priest’s.

“Not very roomy is it?” Phryne asks, watching Concetta sit on the bench.

“I can move over—,”

“Oh don’t bother,” Phryne places herself in Concetta’s lap, situating her arms atop strong shoulders. The other woman’s eyes widen somewhat in surprise, and the corner of Phryne’s mouth twitches as she suppresses a smile. “Well Signora, are you ready to find out how naughty I’ve been?” It only takes Concetta a moment to come up with a question.

“Have you ever killed anyone?” Her deep eyes search Phryne’s, fluttering but holding her gaze.

“Oh Jesus, you catholics don’t pull any punches, do you?” Phryne’s posture slumps, but she corrects it instantly as she replies, “no, I have not killed anyone. Not directly anyways.” She leans in closer to Concetta’s face, shadowed by the pattern in the confessional’s screened window. “But those sins are nothing compared to what I want to do with you.” Concetta’s eyes go dark with desire, but she manages to ask,

“What did you have in mind?”

“Mmm, depends…” Phryne nips at the other woman’s jawline. “How good are you at keeping quiet?”

“I believe _I’m_ asking the questions here, am I not, _donne dispettosa?_ ” Concetta snakes her right arm around Phryne’s waist. Mischievous woman was what she called her, and in that moment Phryne could hardly argue. She was preparing to fuck a catholic woman in a confessional—with only a curtain between them and any priest who got an itch for a late night prayer.

“Ask away, my deepest desires are yours,” Phryne leans into Concetta’s hand against her cheek.

“This is so wrong,” Concetta half-heartedly protests with a breathy laugh. “We’re in a church.”

“I’ve never done anything fun that wasn’t at least a little wrong,” Phryne counters, a wry smile playing at her lips. “Besides, if you have no questions for me, I have one for you.”

“Oh?” Concetta too leans in, so close their noses almost touch.

“Why do you still wear your wedding ring?” Tracing her hand over the one at her cheek, her fingers linger on the diamond bands.

“They are familiar,” the other woman answers, now running her thumb over Phryne’s cheekbone. “I don’t know, really.” Phryne wraps her fingers around Concetta’s wrist and brings the hand to her lips, as if to kiss her knuckles. Instead her tongue flicks out, licking the skin around rings and then the diamond itself. Concetta’s breathing grows ragged as she watches by the dim light, Phryne slip the third and fourth fingers on her left hand into her mouth. Locking eyes with Concetta, Phryne closes her lips around the digits and slowly drags them out, winding her tongue between them.

“Phryne,” Concetta whispers breathlessly. With a small smile, Phryne leans in to kiss the other woman, greeted by soft lips quickly opening against her own. They share long drawn out kisses, tongues touching softly together, and Phryne bites Concetta’s lower lip, a small sound escaping the woman as Phryne moves to kiss her neck. She dips her tongue into the hollow of Concetta’s throat and fingers the crucifix necklace that lies there.

“Take it off,” Phryne commands. Concetta doesn’t question her, removing the chain quickly and handing it to the woman in her lap. Phryne pulls her skirt up and tucks the necklace into her garter. Concetta’s eyes go wide but quickly close as Phryne seals her mouth over the pulse point on her neck, sucking furiously. Phryne knows she shouldn’t leave a mark so obvious, but she has a distinct desire for anything she shouldn’t be doing. Concetta pushes into the contact and Phryne reaches to cup one of her breasts in her hand. Satisfied with her work, Phryne pulls back to find Concetta’s mouth open in bliss and the other woman exhales as Phryne catches her lips in her own. With one hand still firmly at Concetta’s breast, Phryne moves the other to wrap around her throat, pressing gently on the newly hot mark. Their kisses grow increasingly heated as Concetta runs her hands from Phryne’s knees to her upper thighs, and Phryne begins grinding her hips slowly into the other woman’s lap.

“ _Dio santo_ , Phryne, _per favore per favore_ ,” Concetta runs her nails down her back, the open style of Phryne’s dress allowing long scratches to be carved on the exposed skin. At the sound of Concetta begging for her, she lifts off of the other woman’s lap and this time it’s Phryne on her knees, skirts still hiked up to her waist. Slowly, she pushes Concetta’s dress up, running her hands over bare legs. As Phryne reaches to pull down Concetta’s underclothes she grows increasingly thankful the other woman opted to forego stockings this evening. Concetta spreads her legs, an obscene gesture that makes Phryne’s core bloom with heat and her mouth twist in a cunning smile. She leans in and brushes a soft kiss on the inside of one of Concetta’s thighs, digging her nails into the tender skin. Phryne moves to the other side and sucks hard on the flesh there, trying to leave another mark.

“Do not,” Concetta clenches her teeth. “Tease me.” Phryne laughs breathily and her head bobs as she ghosts her tongue against the outside of Concetta’s sex. A deep, throaty moan comes from the woman above Phryne as her hair is grasped firmly, face placed right where Concetta wants her. Not breaking their eye contact, Phryne drags her tongue up Concetta’s slit, met with the hot moisture of her center.

“What do you want, Darling?” Phryne pulls away momentarily, tracing circles on Concetta’s inner thigh as she waits for her answer. She wants to hear her say it, hear the edge in her voice when she does.

“I want you to _fuck me_ ,” Concetta’s tone is urgent, hips rutting upwards, desperate for any friction. “I want your mouth on me, Phryne— _ **Dio**_!” On the last word, Phryne seals her lips over Concetta’s cunt and sucks, flicking her tongue over the hard bundle of nerves at her center. Looking up, Phryne sees what she decides is the most beautiful thing she has ever beheld. Concetta’s head thrown heavenword, mouth open, moaning for anyone to hear…

For _her_.

Phryne quickens the pace of her lapping, Concetta’s channel growing wetter with every stroke. Every one of Phryne’s senses is overwhelmed as she tastes the sweetness of Concetta’s essence coating her tongue, ears rich with the symphony of sounds ringing through the small confessional (some, to her own surprise, coming from herself). Her scalp burns from the handful of hair caught in Concetta’s iron grip and she finds herself reaching a hand up and threading her fingers through the other woman’s less-occupied ones. The two women once again lock eyes and Phryne thinks she has never seen such unadulterated lust in someone’s gaze—she’s sure it’s obvious in her own expression as well. She redoubles her efforts on Concetta’s cunt, causing the other woman to close her eyes and moan even louder than before.

“We are going to get caught, _unngh_ —,” Concetta’s sentence bites off as Phryne’s tongue finds its way inside her.

“Let them find us,” replies Phryne, albeit somewhat muffled and breathless.

“Don’t stop, _per l’amore di Dio non fermarti_ , I’m so _close_ ,” Concetta continues moaning strings of Italian Phryne no longer cares to understand. Concetta is right, Phryne can feel her constricting around her, so ready for release. Three more hard strokes, Phryne doing all her mouth can allow her, and Concetta’s climax shatters through her, releasing a guttural cry that echoes through the sanctuary. No doubt Phryne wasn’t the only audience member now. Phryne’s own core throbs with desire as she licks the fruits of her labor from Concetta’s dripping sex. She then returns to her original position, straddling the other woman’s lap. Concetta’s hands move to rest on Phryne’s upper thighs and they kiss deeply as Concetta fingers the crucifix necklace still dangling from her garter.

“You sure do take the Lord’s name in vain, Concetta Fabrizzi,” Phryne says playfully. “Would you like to confess?”

“I’m not in a repenting mood,” retorts Concetta, moving to cup Phryne’s ass. “And you still haven’t had your release... _Signorina Fisher._ ” Phryne’s mouth twists into a wry grin as she kisses Concetta and begins grinding her hips against the other woman’s thigh. She knows it will be an embarrassingly short time until she comes, and that only rings truer as Concetta moves her underclothes aside and sinks two fingers deep inside her already slick center. Keeping the rhythm, she fucks herself on Concetta’s fingers, moaning obscenely against the other woman’s mouth when she curls to reach just the right spot.

“Oh _fuck_ , Concetta, _harder_ ,” Phryne allows her to help guide her hips, quickening the pace. “Yes Darling oh god, _fuck me_.” Admittedly, Phryne is much more vocal than Concetta, but as the other woman’s fingers drive her over the edge, she comes with only an exhalation, biting down on the crook of Concetta’s neck. As she descends from her climax, Concetta removes her fingers from inside Phryne and brings them to her own lips, dramatically sucking Phryne’s essence from them. Phryne greedily replaces the fingers with her lips, the two women’s tastes lingering on their tongues. Silently, Phryne reaches over to fasten the crucifix back onto Concetta’s neck, assuring to brush over the pretty bruise to make her flinch.

“My bet is we’ve got about fifty more seconds before the priest reaches the sanctuary doors.”

*********************************************************************

Phryne is on her knees again, at a different kind of altar this time. She and Concetta assumed a praying position (managing to look only slightly rumpled) merely a second before the priest made his intrusion.

“What might you ladies be doing here at this hour of the night?” The short, wrinkled man inquires somewhat rudely. _‘You mean what are we doing here unescorted by a **man**.’_ Thought Phryne, barely resisting the temptation to roll her eyes.

“Only lighting a candle for my late husband, Father,” Concetta lies smoothly, rising from her faux-prayer. Trying not to look incredibly impressed, Phryne also stands, ignoring her sore kneecaps.

“We’ll be on our way now, no need to worry,” Phryne stealthily adjusts Concetta’s shawl, now tied around the other woman’s neck as a makeshift scarf. Not that this priest would have noticed the furious red mark, as he appeared to be half asleep and hasty to remove the two of them from the premises—but better to be safe than sorry. She would certainly get in trouble for fucking in the House of the Lord, and God forbid she use a confessional for its intended purpose.

Once in the safety of the courtyard, the night as clear and chill as they left it, Concetta asks,

“So how was your first religious experience?”

Phryne takes Concetta’s arm and replies innocently, “Enlightening...I may even come back.”

“Oh?” Phryne feels Concetta’s eyebrows go up as the other woman stares intently at her.

“Mmm, I think so,” she states finally, only meeting Concetta’s gaze out of the corner of her eye as she smirks. “You’d look gorgeous splayed on the altar.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I do not own these characters or the world they come from, and I do not derive profit of any kind through this work.


End file.
